


Oh What a One Shot!

by ddaybluedevil



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, Multi, One Shot Collection, i love 60's holtzbert, i mean holtz gets high and wants a twinkie, i should write more of these, more to come - Freeform, so a twinkie?, writing period pieces
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-04 16:15:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12172359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddaybluedevil/pseuds/ddaybluedevil
Summary: Erin and Holtz share some sentimental moments on the journey of life.A collection of one shots which vary in clime,  place and sometimes odd and possibly decent.





	1. Domestic Bliss

Feburary 12th, 1963

Jillian sat back in her easy chair and pulled her pipe to her mouth. She kicked her wingtipped shoes on the table and wondered what would be an appropriate gift for someone like Erin. It wasn’t like they had been dating for eighteen years or anything and yet, the Polish woman was at a loss. She remembered for their tenth anniversary of giving Erin the sweetheart charm which she had worked on in secret for six months.

The metal in the bracelet from her P-51, "Kurwa" had crashed in Northern France during Overlord and she remembered the French farmer who gave her some of the smaller metal hunks after recovering the wreck.

She had even done the engraving herself with the terrible line, "Come here often" with the date they had gotten together. February 14th, 1945. It was clichéd but they had met after Erin had returned from Poland and they got together in secret, eighteen years was something to celebrate.

Their fifteenth they had gotten another rat terrier named FDR and Stalin had been miffed about the second dog running around. Jill’s leather shoes never stood a chance against the terror of Stalin and FDR. 

Erin joked about getting a bulldog and naming him Churchill and Jillian groaned at the prospect. Her leather shoes would be reduced to ruin and Erin would still dote on them. 

 How could she get the love of her life a gift that would not tear her shoes at every turn?

She got up and turned on the wireless and groaned. They had been playing The Beatles non-stop and she wanted to shoot the wireless from this musical nonsense.

Erin would kill her if she harmed any of those chaps from Liverpool or shoot the wireless. Or blow up the hot plate. Or re-do the wiring in the doorbell to play the French national anthem.

“Hey, that gives me an idea!” She said to no one in particular. 

FDR looked up from his basket at his owner who was getting up from an easy chair.

She got up from her easy chair and grabbed her overcoat along with her fedora. She picked up her keys from the small hook and walked out into the cool Ealing evening. She had time to get to one of the record stores and get the new album, Erin would love it.

* * *

 

February 14th, 1963

Erin sat down at the dining table with her tea and could barely wake up. She had worked three twenty-four hour shifts on the maternity ward and the last thing she needed was loud noise. She was in her house dress and looked up where was her irate Polish lover?

“Stalin-ergh stop it. Umm, Erin? Did you know FDR is really an Eleanor?” Holtz shouted from the upstairs and Erin sighed.

Great. Fantastic.

She sat there and finished her tea as she mustered the strength to deal with two rat terriers in heat and her useless lover.

Erin gets up and walks up there and she sighs at the sight that greets her. Jillian was trying to break up the two dogs who were in the mating position and rubbing against each other, hard. Why does this always happen to her idiot? 

Poor Holtz was struggling to get Stalin off who was nipping at her fingers and EFR was-well "he" was neutered, Erin had seen to that. 

Erin grabs Stalin and cradles him as Jillian catches her breath, swearing as she grabs the newly discovered Eleanor and brings her downstairs and out to the yard.

* * *

 

“Sorry about earlier. We barely get time off together and today’s our anniversary, so here.” Jillian said as she sat in her easy chair as she thrust her gift in Erin’s general direction. Erin hesitantly took the gift and looked back at her girlfriend who had a smug smile on her face.

Oh, that was absolutely a smug smile.

She ripped the brown paper wrapping off and Erin gasped. She cradled the album. Did she really go out into Central London and face the screaming crowds to get the new Beatles album?

“Thank you, sweetheart. I promise to play this sparingly as long as you promise not to break the wireless or any other appliances? We all know what happened with the hot plate.” Erin said handing Holtz her gift, giving her a knowing smile.

“Burn a dog once and your blacklisted for life from the kitchen. Humph.” Jillian replied as she took the gift from Erin and looked at it. 

It was a rectangular shape and Holtz ripped the paper off to reveal a Frog model kit of the Hawker Hunter.

The Hunter was one of the first transonic jets in the RAF and Holtzmann wished she could have flown one. The Jet Age was all Erin heard when it came to planes and she wanted Jillian to have a nice something to display in their home.

Her lover's jaw was agape with the surprise of getting such a special 1:72 scale model and it couldn't have been a better gift for an aviation nut.

“How did you-?” Jillian asked and it was Erin who was wearing the smug smile.

“You talk in your sleep dear and I wanted to get you something special.” Erin said as she put her record to the side and walked over to Jillian.

“If you want your other gift doll, we should take this upstairs.” Jill responded with a smirk as Erin sat down in her lap, peppering her neck with kisses.

“Ok, flyboy. Show me some of those special moves and I promise I have some of my own.” Erin whispered in Jill’s ear and they both shuddered a little at the promise.


	2. Tout Ira Bien

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the song "Tout Ira Bien" from Jesus Christ Superstar
> 
> Sixties Holtzbert deal with some accidents the only way they know how, with marijuana and their love for each other.

May 3rd, 1968

  
Erin sat at her desk as Jillian swung in and jumped on Erin’s bed. There were Grateful Dead posters hung as tackily as possible across the room and Erin could only sigh. This was nothing new for Holtzmann to crash on her bed after a long day and they would spend the evening interwined, smoking pot and loving each other.

That had been Holtzmann’s influence and her posters of The Beatles had given way to The Byrds and then The Raspberries. The two of them had been roomates since freshmen year and Holtz was the only one she wanted to share room with, the blonde could make some grade-a pot and Erin knew anyone else would rat her out. For someone who was not a chem major, she could certainly grow the leaf and that made them fast friends.

“Hey, get your awky combat boots off my damn comforter Holtzmann.” Erin hissed from across the room.

“Sorry if my ‘awky’ boots just saved your ass from having to drop Francini’s class by putting them on his desk during office hours and convincing him to keep you in Advanced Algebra." Holtz retorted as she kicked her boots off and stared at her love-no roommate.

“Are you always in a ‘fuck the man’ mood or is it just with me? Huh?” Erin said as she pushed her chair and looked at the blonde.

“I’m more of the ‘fuck a woman’ type?” Holtz replied with a smirk

“Not in those awky boots, not with those ratty clothes, fuck it I’ll rip that shirt off later.” Erin said as she stalked over there and looked at her roommate, no-wait girlfriend.

“Falling for the Holtzy charm, my babe?” Jillian asked with a raised eyebrow and slightly seductive pose.

“I have standards, boots and jacket. OFF YOU DEADHEAD!” Erin said firm as she slid on her bed and kicked her heels off, peeling her blazer off and smirking.

“I see you are a demanding mistress, Miss Gilbert.” Holtz responded with a snort as she kicked her boots off and waited for Erin to get on the bed.

“I’m a future math teacher, dumbass.” Erin retorted and gave her a light swat to the head.

“Ok, ok. Fair point but would a mathematician still use the word ‘awky’?” Holtz asked as she hung her jacket on the end of Erin’s bed.

“It’s a thing in Battle Creek, not all of us are from Massachusetts. I-I’m happy we are good, you-make me happy.” Erin said as Holtz held her hand close and gave her a knowing smile.

“I want to be more than good and you said you were thinking about it.” Jillian replied as she stroked Erin’s hair as they lay on the bed.

“I’m yours till the end, Holtz. I, it’s my parents and when they find out I won’t have a place to go back to. Hold me tighter.” Erin said with a sigh as she pulled the cover over them.

“You’ll have me.” Jillian whispered as she kissed Erin’s cheek and held her close.

They snuggled in the warmth of Erin’s comforter, both wondering what the seventies had in store for them.

* * *

May 4th, 1968

“Jillian!” Erin hush-yelled as she ducked into the lab and ran to her injured friend. There was so much chaos outside that she was lucky to get to the Sciences building intact. 

Finals brought out the worst in people, elections be damned. Patty was right, she was always right. The blonde was always working on slightly less legal substances and Patty always said she was going to blow them up someday.

“Erin, sorry about the mess” Holtz whispered as Erin ripped her jacket off and applied the pressure to the wound.

“Hold this.” Erin hands her the coat and sighs as she presses her palm to Jillian’s forehead.

“I really could use some pot right about now.” Holtz said as Erin puts her on her shoulder as they walk back to the dorm.

“Is pot all you ever think about?” Erin asked with a raised eyebrow as Holtz gave her a look.

“I think about you, pot, the amazing guitar stylings of Jerry Garcia, and you.” Jillian retorted and Erin had to smile at that, she loved her girlfriend even when she was annoying and okay, Jerry Garcia is an okay guitarist, Erin had to concede on that.

“Are we gonna be okay?” Jillian asked as Erin looked at the blonde’s arm as she tied a knot in her coat bandage as they neared Tucker Hall.

“Yes, we’ll get some ACE bandages and I’m sure Doctor Gorin can understand why you were late.” Erin said as she helped Jillian limp on the stairs up to Tucker and the two of them would be okay.

"Bientôt tout ira bien", Patty would have said to them as they walked up the stairs. 

Bientôt tout ira bien (Soon it will be okay) and they would be, it would be okay. The road would be long but soon it will be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I finished writing this, I found out my great aunt passed away and I cannot help but feel saddened at her passing. I wanted to get this up before I go and sort things out with family and cousins. She was one of the people who encouraged me when I was in a 'dark' place. 
> 
> Without her, I do not know what would have happened. She encouraged me to write poetry and she is the reason why I can write today. Remember, if you ever feel crappy that you need to go and talk to someone (it could be anything really, we used to talk about tanks and her Uncle Joe, just so I could feel better), like my she helped me and many, many others. 
> 
> Thank you, merci, danke.  
> Enjoy and cherish every moment, every sandwich and each other.


	3. The Summer of 69', The Summer of the Big Twinkie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another 60's oneshot starring Holtzbert , Woodstock, motorcycles, munchies and a big ass Twinkie.  
> Same verse' as the previous one shot. 
> 
>  
> 
> ENJOY!

August 10th, 1969

Erin looked over her small bag that she had packed and was skeptical of these tickets Holtzmann had wrangled at one of her local haunts. She was excited to be going to Woodstock, no doubt but she is worried about how long it would take them to get there from Yaphank. She looked at her map again and saw the red circle over the farm where the festival is being held.

“Hey Mama, looking at our route? I promise not to eat any Pringles on our way up there.” Holtzmann said as she sauntered over with her big army pack and sat on the motorcycle as Erin glared at her.

“I am glad you asked. Jillian, you did pack more than just-that?” Erin asked as Holtz looked at her clothes, grinned and looked back at Erin.

She was wearing her regular Deadhead shirt and favorite beat-up army jacket, nametape still attached and some worn jeans with some beat up paratrooper boots. Her goggles dangled around her neck as she turned to look at Erin and put the bag on the back of the bike

“Babe, I did. Oh, and I packed us a tent, some wool blankets, my brother’s sleeping bag, and your favorite burberry coat and some other essentials. Pringles, Twinkies, Ding-Dongs and there is some Chef Boyardee for you. Plus, I stashed some pot in here. Approve of those groovy threads you have there, babe.”

Erin was wearing her jeans from Sears and her top was a simple flower design, she knew Holtz approved as it showed off her stomach and Holtz had her “reasons”. She had opted for the more comfortable sneakers and sighed as she helped Holtzmann strap the bigger bag on the rack behind her.

“Oh, come here you.” Erin said as she pulled Holtz in for a kiss, yanking her by the goggles. The kiss went on for a few more minutes than necessary but Jillian smiled as they broke apart

“Well hello there Lawdy Mama, haven’t seen you in a while. You are making my motor run.” Jillian said with a sigh as she kicked the engine to life and the vibrations shook them both.

Erin quipped, “Well, you know how it goes. Take the world in a love embrace and explode into space.”

They situate themselves on Holtz's bike and head out to the summer of loving that would change their lives.

* * *

 

August 16th, 1969

After the rain, Erin finally found Jillian after being in the muddy stage where Janis Joplin had been playing. She found her woman sitting next to a bunch of fellow Deadheads and they had started a small fire. It was chilly evening, Jill waved for her to sit down and Erin did so, bringing the blanket around them.

“You’re so pretty. I mean, I’ve always thought you were pretty but I’m like REALLY looking at you now and, oh my god, you’re so beautiful. I love you, my babe. Want one?” Jillian asked as she puffed a cloud of smoke and kissed Erin’s neck, the sticky sweet smell clinging to them both.

“Sure, what about the motel?” Erin asked as she pulled the blanket closer around them.

“Motel-schmotel. I have all I want with me right here and I don’t need a bed when I have you. Here.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive back, there’s sheets and a nice toilet.” Erin said as she held the joint nervously.

“Erin, do you want to go back?” Jillian asked with sincerity in her voice and took the joint back, gently.

“Yes, please.”

“Ok.”

* * *

Erin drives the motorcycle back with some help from a stoned Holtz, well more like Jill just groped her boobs a lot more than usual. That was fine, as they pulled into the small motel parking lot. Holtz was high and she always got clingy with her, not that Erin minded at all. Erin helps Holtz off the bike as they walk toward the room.

“I lost my key, no. No. I can’t lose this jam.” Holtz said with a frown as she tried to find a key that she definitely did not have.

“Holtzy? I have it, relax and take it easy.” Erin replied and pulled the key out of her jean pocket.

Erin knew better than to trust a high Holtzmann with a key. Patty had still not recovered from the "Bender of 67'" and still did not trust Holtz with any keys. Who knew a single dorm key and one Deadhead could unleash so much havoc?

They walk into the room and Jillian ran into the bathroom, smirking as she went, “Be out in a minute babe.” Erin sits daintily on the bed and kicks her shoes off, she then takes off her shirt and lay back into the bed. She sighs softly and stretches back after a long day of peace, love, and music. 

“Am I high- or are you an angel? I feel-I have a lady woody and the munchies right now and man if I don’t jam this jam out.” Jillian told her as she walked out of the bathroom and smiled goofily. 

“I’m all yours baby. Let’s jam and you can eat me, see? I fixed both of your problems.” Erin said as she reached for her Jill, pulling the woman on the bed and holding the blonde’s head softly and laying it on her chest, pulling her Deadhead closer as they lay together.

“Hold on, I really need a Twinkie.” Jillian said as she hopped up and Erin glared at her as she got up and hunted for the treat. The blonde went over and grabbed a big box before pulling out one big Twinkie and munching on it as she walked back to the bed with her well-earned treat.

“Happy? Can we continue now or should I stop and grab a Ding-Dong? That is a big Twinkie. ” Erin said with a smirk as she crawled on top of Jillian, smiling like a cat.

“This is a dream come true and I am very happy. I couldn’t get much higher right now.” Jillian replied as she curled closer into Erin and felt the softness of the sheets.

“Free love baby, now aren’t you hungry for someone other than Mr. Twinkie?” Erin said with a smirk as she peppered kisses up and down her lover’s neck.

“Aw, lawdy mama!” Jill screamed as she dropped her Twinkie and both of them got a little higher that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can thank my music history professor for this as we watched a Woodstock documentary and I thought it would make a good one shot. (outlined in class, finished on a group day and just now posting it. The end of October was batshit crazy for me). Hehe, yes 60's Holtzbert is my jam and no, not like that. Hehe. I may pen the "Bender of 67'" later, just know there was a key, a stoned Holtz, and shit went down man. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed that and hit that kudos button in the face. If YOU ENJOYED IT, drop a line in that comment section.


	4. She was a sk8r girl, who could fingerflip the world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erin was a skater girl and Holtz has questions, shameless questions and could it be any more obvious? It's a nice little teenage, skater Erin thing and some stuff, yeah.

1999

 _It's my life_  
_And I do what I wanna, do what I wanna, do what I like_  
_It's my life_

Wendy O' Williams, "It's My Life" 

  
It was a normal day for Erin Gilbert. Go to school. Avoid the bullies. Read some Arthur Machen and get called “freak” by at least two girls named Jennifer and one named Hannah was normal.

  
Normal.

  
Don’t summon a god, she reminded herself. It was tempting but if “The Great God Pan” was anything to go by, she would never say a thing about gods or ghosts. She knew her skateboard was still tucked in her room and she’d go roaming a little before dark. Her dad had bought for her after she stopped talking about the ghosts. Then Abby came and they went out skating, talking of ghosts and everything else. 

  
Erin climbed up the same flight of stairs and ran into her room and she ditched the Jansport backpack for her old messenger bag. She found her board and spun the wheels a couple of times; the grip tape was painted white.

  
She may be Ghost Girl at school. Her name was Erin to her parents but, to Abby and her skateboarding dudes she was “Bones.”

  
A buddy, Abby had painted it for her and nicknamed her ‘Bones’. It was a bad joke after the whole story of old Mrs. Bernard and an encounter with a skeleton at school. 

  
“I know you hate Ghost Girl, so Bones? C’mon Bones!”

  
High school had sucked and after everything, she’d be getting out of nowhere Battle Creek and she could do what she wanted. She picked up her copy of Pro Skater and smiled, plenty of people were surprised that she skated. Physics and skateboarding went hand in hand. She knew all the numbers and what not, how far she could go before she bailed and if you did bail do so with grace.

  
“Hey, so there’s a new edition of Pro Skater coming out and-" Abby just barrels in and Erin has just taken her shirt off and jumps, hitting her headboard and groaning in the process. 

  
“KNOCK ABBY!” Erin screcches as she dives on her bed and finds some old t-shirt to cover herself up and her friend seems to feel bad.

  
“Right-o.” Abby replied as she walked out and knocked twice on her door, Erin waved her in and sat on her beat up TV, smiling and gives a sympathetic grin.

  
“Come in. Continue, not as terrified and slightly dressed now thank you.” Erin said 

  
“Right, so two things. Pro Skater 2 is coming out in 2000 and Midwest Dropflip Skateshop is hosting a vert competition. You need to go and beat Phil. That would so hack Jennifer off and after today” Abby pauses with a grin as she holds the flyer and points, "would ruin her weekend."

  
“You’d drive me?

  
“Yes and you could spend the night. Ghosts, Skating and all things cooler than Jennifer Patterson’s insults.”

“I’m in.

* * *

 

20 years later

“Wow, that’s a picture of you guys in high school? Man, Erin was skinny.” Patty said as she was sorting through boxes and looked at the picture, it was Erin and Abby at their local haunt.

“Yeah, I used to skateboard too. I did some gnarly tricks and finger flips were a specialty of mine.”

“Did someone mention gnarly and tricks? I once shotgunned a Sprite.”

“Holtzmann, why?”

“The bartender said I couldn’t, and I never turn down a challenge.”

“You turned down a Hurricane when we went to New Orleans.” Erin said with a smug grin and Holtz struggled for a retort, coming up with nothing.

"Yeah, I have no defense for that. You, my detectable Totino were a skater girl and I have questions.” Holtzmann said as she gave Erin a thumbs-up as she hops up on Erin's desk.

“Shoot?”

“Favorite skater?”

“Bob Burnquist or Cara-Beth Burnside.” Erin said like Holtzmann asked about air and knows the next question before it comes.

“Best trick you ever did?” Holtz asked with glee as her knee bobbed up and down with glee. This was a new side of Erin she never knew and Abby shot her a look, it was better than the time Kevin mixed up the laundry.

“Finger flip on a vert ramp in 1999 and Phil Patterson cried that day.” Erin replied, "even Phil, the idiot I used to date hates finger flips and I can still pull em' off.

“You have a bad track record of guys named Phil. You've cursed all the Phils man." Patty said with a chuckle as she joined them with a hot cup of her favorite tea.

“Yeah, boss maybe you should play for the great beaver.”

“Kevin.

“That’s my name.” The blonde Chihuahua replied as he looked at Patty who just shook her head and pats him on the back.

“Shush, don’t speak Erin what was your worst bail?” Holtz asked with such reverence, you would have thought Tony Hawk was in the room."

“98’. I tried to do a hardflip and met Senor Sidewalk instead. " Erin said with a grin, "still have the scar on my knee. It was a killer-diller one too."

“I may still have some of our tapes. Ya know, the finger flipping?" Abby said as she tried to suppress a grin

“Intermingled with questions about Xena, the X-Files, and Tom Green. It was X-treme times and we had to know, do I like Abs Gab or Callisto?” Erin said with hearty chuckle and turned her attention to the blonde in question.

“Well? I was a Joxer fan until Season 5 and don’t get me started-” Holtzmann started to ramble and Erin couldn’t help but chuckle at the engineer’s stalling. It seemed she had favored the comic relief and this, no.

Erin got up and pulled Holtzmann in close, whispering, “I still have a thing for blondes and Totino’s. ” and she licks Holtzmann’s face, sending the signal to Abby , as she grabs Kevin by the arm and gives Patty the nod.

“Still know any finger flips?” Holtzmann asked nervously as she felt Erin stare at her with an intense hunger, like she craved a box of Gushers.

“You bet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO! I live. Sort of-like I wasn't gonna post anything until November when school quiets down but the power of Wendy O. Williams and the Tony Hawk franchise compelled me from beyond their perspective graves and this is your Halloween gift, cause what's better than Holtzbert? Skaters! Or Season 5 of Xena, okay that one could be debated but screw it, Callisto was my girl crush for the longest time, even with the scary, demonic, lizard looking makeup. 
> 
> Yay. *said as 9 Pound Hammer blares into my skull at 4 am*


	6. Her Side of the Sleeping Bag

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little lovin'  
> When the world is yawin'  
> Makes you wake up feeling  
> Good things are coming your way
> 
> Dusty Springfield - Just A Little Lovin'
> 
> 60's Holtzbert from my Revenge of the Twinkies work

October 1969

Her Side of the Bed

 

_Just a little lovin'_

_When the world is yawin'_

_Makes you wake up feeling_

_Good things are coming your way_

_Dusty Springfield - Just A Little Lovin'_

Erin wakes and looks at her in the early morning dew. She had been wearing a flower crown before they had went to sleep and she stared at her girlfriend’s side of the bed. Pack, boots, jackets, a few joints, some Pringles and a box of Twinkies. It was just so Holtzmann.

 

“How’s my babe doin this mornin'? You need a little lovin?” Holtz asked she slowly rose from the pile of blankets and looked out of the tent and back at her girlfriend, smiling.

 

“I was just thinking.”

 

“Of me?”

 

“Of how wonderful this summer and fall has been for us. Woodstock was fun and so was this, camping in the Smoky Mountains. The photos,” Erin paused and motioned at her camera, “will last me for a lifetime.”

 

“I hope it’s more than just that. I’ve always loved you ever since I saw you at the first hop I went to.”

 

“When was that again?”

 

“It had to be 65’ or 66’. I went with Garett and we talked all night, he went talk to Patty for the rest of the night.”

 

“How has she been handling it?" 

 

“Not well. Vietnam is such a mess and you heard about the draft dodger, Trump or was it Trumper?”

 

“No, we aren't going on a protest line and you aren’t ruining my early morning with talk of a blubbering fortunate son of a gun.”

 

“Okay, seriously though you look gorgeous in that top.” Holtz said with a smile, "thank god for Patty."

 

Erin laid back onto the blankets and looked up at Holtz with a smile. Her lace shirt slipped \and Jillian took the opportunity to kiss her shoulder before fixing it back into place. The look on the brunette’s face was priceless and Holtz could only grin, from her mischief and she knew there would be some jamming later.

 

“It’s amazing waking up next to you every morning. I don’t know how I could do it without you on the other side of the bed.” Jillian said as she laid down on Erin’s stomach and looked out of the tent, smiling, “you want to go hike down to the creek today?”

 

“I feel the same when I look at your side of the bed and see a stack of Twinkies piled high.” Erin replied and gave Jillian a peck, “I think hiking from Knoxville to Rockwood was a good idea.”

 

“I am full of those mama.”

 

"Don't be a candyass, Jill." Erin said with a smile chuckle as she got out of her sleeping bag and stretched, "we are going to the creek today."

 

It had taken them half the day to hike down and Erin’s hair looked perfect, not a hair out of place. Holtz had taken a few pictures as they meandered down the path and still could not believe the beauty that surrounded them, save for a mosquito that had been crushed by a Pringles can.

 

“I’m going in, you are coming in?” Erin asked as she took a dip into the creek and Holtz stood near the creek.

 

“Can I sit down for a few?” She asked and leaned into the massive boulder, smirking.

 

“Ok, Holtz. I’m swimming in this stream and you can just sulk.” Holtz could only smirk as she stayed on the shore and thought of how she was going to bring up what had come in the mail.

 

She had wanted to go on this hike for a selfish reason and that was to escape the reality. She sat down, opened her pack, and dug for the letter from her mother. Jillian folded the letter back up and stared up at the Rocky Mountains. It was hard to believe that her best friend besides Erin was so far away, Garrett had been so dreary in his last letter.

 

“You aren’t okay like you said. What’s wrong?” Erin asked as she walked up from the stream and sat next to her lover.

 

“It’s Garett. He pooped himself near a Vietnamese village and he's got a new nickname, Captain Plane Crash ” Jillian rambles and holds out, and Erin put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

 

"Wait, your not joking. I tho-you aren't joking. ” There was a heavy silence and Jillian looks up, her face is tear streaked.

 

Something is wrong. This isn't a normal joke between the two friends she had gone to college with, and Erin clutches her closer. 

 

“I chased Garett for so long and we both knew it wasn't right for us. I have been thinking about that night at the hop and all the time before that, so many years wasted. I kissed Garett at our prom, ya dig?” She took a breath, “we both knew and he didn’t stop me.”

 

“I did, yes when Garett told us about leaving for the war, wait a second you think our relationship is going to crumble due to a simple boy crush when you were sixteen?” Erin asked as she gently lifted Jillian’s chin up, “I’m going to kiss you.” Erin slowly bit the lower lip and moved in, cupping a breast soft and the image was overwhelming as Jillian leaned deeper in, moaning softly.

 

“Thank you for that.” Jillian whispered as they lay down by the creek “I’ve been thinking about something for you---ugh, don’t get my motor running just yet. C’mere, pass me the joint and remind me to get the gift out of the car later.”

 

“We need a photo, c’mon you can keep toking but give me a second.” Erin said as she rummages through Erin leapt up and grabbed the tripod for a picture.

 

The two waited for the small poof and Holtz could only grin as Erin dealt with the camera, groaning.

 

"I won't know if that was the money shot or not. God, if only I had a developing kit out here with me." Erin said with a huff and sat down next to Jillian, "give it here."

 

"Lump it. Hey, ten bucks says that photo ends up on a mantle and we have a kid who is going to ask about the joint."

 

"Are we factoring in inflation or not?" Erin asked and Holtz sighed, "what?! I have a degree in math and you are not considering that I wouldn't take the bet."

 

"Not at all." Holtz wheezes and coughs for a second or two as she steadies hereself on Erin's wet shoulder.

 

"So?" Erin asks with some concern as Holtz holds onto her and then it clicks.

 

"You went full math nerd." Holtz said as she chuckles at Erin.

 

"It's a sine."

* * *

 

October 2009 40 years later

“Hey Grandma, who is this?” Kevin asked one evening when his parents had gone on date night and decided he needed some time to spend with his great aunts. 

 

“Well, her name was Jillian and we are in love.

 

“She looks cool. Is that a joint?” Erin took a deep sigh and wondered what his parents would think about him hearing the love story that had lasted for more than forty years.

“Grandma?” Kevin asked again

 

"Yes?" Erin said nervously as she looked at the picture on the mantle. 

 

“Jillian, wait do you mean Aunt Magnolia? She was getting some Twinkies. I told her I had finshed my homework and didn't say a thing."

 

"What was she doing with the Twinkie?"

 

"I'll answer that!" Jillian said as she walked into the living room and gave Kevin a smile, "I was making a Twinkie sandwich with some Pringles. You wanna a bite?"

 

"I will answer that," Erin replied, "no."

 

"The photograph?"

 

"What's the little stick she's holding?"

 

"Babe."

 

"I hate stoned you from 1969 so much right now."

 

"I need ten bucks and you won't have to factor in the inflation rate, promise." Jillian said with a grin that made Erin and Kevin snort,"you'll also hate this. Selfie!"

 

"It's $66.70, candyass stop that and Kevin," Erin hesitated as the boy giggled at the curse word, "don't repeat that."

 

"Couch?"

 

"Gamma Erin, it'd be wrong if Aunt Magnolia couldn't sleep on her side of the bed."

 

The eight year old had a joint, no a point. Erin was getting mixed up in her old age after all.

 

"Okay, you can sleep in the bed with me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been going through a lot of files as it is exam time and I've had too many files up on my computer at once with Benny Goodman, Sabaton, and Robin Schulz blaring all at once. Somehow. Anyway, I'm in the downward stretch before I'm finished for the holidays and boy do I have a treat for you.


End file.
